


Mesh and Lace

by Lunarium



Category: Hyakujuuou GoLion | Beast King GoLion
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Premonition, Threat of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 01:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17613233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: "I saw the world crashing all around your face, never really knowing it was always mesh and lace."





	Mesh and Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Small Fandom Fest, Round 24. Prompt was, Beast King GoLion, Akira/Takashi, and this song:  
>  _Moving forward using all my breath_  
>  Making love to you was never second best  
> I saw the world crashing all around your face  
> Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace  
> (from: "I Melt With You" - Modern English)

The pouring rain created a wall of blurry ripples against his car window, obscuring his view of the grey world, making him feel he wasn’t even in the parking lot of a large hospital waiting for his lover to return. It was all very well, for that moment he wished he could step away from the planet’s pitiful fighting and conflicts. 

The radio carried on about the unsuccessful peace talks between leaders. There had been many summits over the past year: one in central Europe, another here in Japan, one overseas in the United States, just to name a few. Still, no agreement was reached. No one was happy. A tension which had been rising ever since Takashi had enrolled in flight school was nearly at breaking point. 

Not that all citizens were upset, mind. Most, like Takashi, just wanted peace. Just wanted to be left alone. But there had been branches which had dissolved into strife on the streets, egged on by those wishing to overthrow their leaders. It didn’t help that a conflict over overpopulation and a redefinition of country borders was threatening an all-out world war. 

Takashi frowned; the global tension was easily dismissible back when he was in flight school. What was the big deal about redefining borders, or opening doors to immigrants? Had world leaders not before, long time ago, carved the lines that would define the countries that carried to this day? And was this not the twenty-third century? They should have been well beyond the point of caring who lived where. 

Yet what seemed as so conceivably a trivial manner to his then-young mind was far greater to the wider world. Throughout his years studying, the world had faced the occasional acts of violence, the rare news posting online, which any student could look past among the dozens other articles. Present, but not one to trouble his nights. 

The stories were still only background noise when he had meet Akira; he distinctly remembered Isamu, Tsuyoshi, and Hiroshi mocking their world leaders for their incompetence on what should have been, to them, an easy fix in the rising tension. 

Now, it had come to this. Governments against its citizens. Citizens against governments. Rebels lighting matches, and new messes snowballing from there. 

And somewhere, amidst all this chaos, an attempt to continue to live as normally as one had before. 

_War is imminent_ , the newscaster’s words, often jolly in announcing the song and artist, now reported, his voice a low bass in its gravity; the words hung in the car like a threat.

Takashi furrowed his brow and tried to peer through the layers of rainfall. Fuji Space School wasn’t that far from here; the thought of it rising up in smoke and flame turned his stomach. 

The students often came to this hospital for physicals and any ailments. 

_Let this hospital never have to treat a student because of a bombing_ , he prayed. 

_War is imminent._

He swallowed thickly. 

A knock on the door came, and Takashi immediately switched off the radio as he unlocked the front passenger seat. He watched as a flash of a red jacket appeared, and then Akira slipping in beside him, soaked to the bone. He had covered his head with a large manilla envelope, but the rain had still got to his hair. 

“Physical went okay?” Takashi asked. 

“I’m cleared!” Akira said excitedly, grinning and undeterred by the weather. “Space travel is a go!” 

Takashi returned his infectious smile, his own small but still present. On their ride back, they passed places they had been to countless of times, places they have taken their existence for granted. Obscured by the rain, they now appeared almost like they were half-destroyed, victims of the imminent world war. Takashi tried not to dwell on it. 

He placed all his focus on Akira. No sooner had they come back inside that he was discarded from his clothes, and Akira from his—“The rain really did a number on them!” Takashi brought him over to their bed. 

“Will we get a chance like this up in space, do you think?” Akira asked as Takashi straddled him. “The others will be so close by.” 

“Making love to you will always be my top priority,” Takashi assured with a kiss. 

The universe curled down to just the two of them: their mouths, their hands, their bodies, their souls, their union. 

With Akira as the little spoon facing him, his sleeping face a most beautiful angel, Takashi idly ran one hand through his hair. His fingers brushed over soft cheeks before drawing back into the thick waves of black hair.

And then Takashi’s eyes strained as if something far behind them, something deep in his own mind, began to stir. His hand, fingers curled into Akira’s locks, froze over his cheek. 

Behind Akira’s shoulder no longer was the nightstand nor their closet and the fern they would be giving away to his brother for safekeeping after tomorrow. The entire apartment had fallen away to an inferno bursting forth from the ground, a mighty blossoming of smoke and radiation, fed by an evil high above. Akira’s eyes were open, smiling sadly at Takashi right before the flames washed over them. 

Their bodies melted, no longer fused by the heat of their union, by their love and passion, but by war, engulfed and choked by senseless hatred and malice. Mesh and lace they had become, two things of beauty, two men shared in their passion for the stars, entrapped and entangled in the cruelties of destruction. Takashi held on, his mouth wide open in fear. 

“ _Aishiteru_ ,” Akira formed the teary syllables before the world blacked out. 

A blink, and he was back, their apartment dark but peaceful, the heavy rain having dwindled down to a light drizzle. 

He pulled Akira closer to his chest, his heart thumping. 

_War is imminent._

The thought of losing Akira in the world war, seeing him caught by the bombs, or being forced to fight in a war that should never have existed in the first place…

Their mission to outer space could not come soon enough.

*

“No…Takashi...”

He noted the change in name, Akira abandoning his nickname of “Quiet”—they all had gotten their nicknames while in the arena—to using his proper name. To be able to say it one more time before...

_Well, I suppose I prefer it this way_ , he thought and tried to look up, offering a reassuring smile to his beloved. 

They had managed to leave Earth before the world war, and it had been easy to forget that war was about to happen. There was always the little chance of hope their leaders would pull through. But they hadn’t, and Earth had been utterly destroyed in the process, just as Takashi had foreseen. 

But it was only the beginning of their own hardships. Takashi fought hard to keep Akira safe in the arenas; at times it seemed they would be prisoners for the Galra forever, but he had made a promise to see Akira to safety, whatever it took. Akira, nicknamed Chief by the others, had become their leader, with Takashi as his silent confidant and protector from the shadows. 

And now he lay in Akira’s arms, close to death. 

Isamu kneeled close by, weeping and with his head bowed. Akira’s eyes were focused on Takashi, near out of his mind. Takashi peered over Akira’s shoulder, hoping for one more premonition. 

Instead of a destroyed world, of mesh and lace melting together, he saw the glow of GoLion, their most recent ally, and hope filled him. 

“GoLion itself is our fortress,” he said weakly to Akira and smiled before adding one final message, spoken softly so only Akira would hear. “ _Aishiteru_.”


End file.
